


Hope for Tomorrow

by Sakurafox666



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Anal Fingering, Fluff and Smut, Hand Jobs, Light Bondage, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-10
Updated: 2015-02-10
Packaged: 2018-03-11 12:06:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3326699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sakurafox666/pseuds/Sakurafox666
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Darkness covers the world, but sometimes that just makes it easier to see the light left in people.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hope for Tomorrow

**Author's Note:**

> I blame this on Tumblr. In my first playthrough I sided with the Templars so I never met Samson, but some of my Tumblr buddies were talking about the Cullen/Samson dynamic and when I saw/remembered Samson was voice by Gideon Emery my fate (and Cullen's) was sealed. All consequential playthroughs I have sided with the mages. 
> 
> Ok so technically Samson gives his whole lecture about the Chantry while he’s actually on trial, but I can’t be bothered by canon continuity getting in the way of my ship, so for this story let’s pretend he’s says how much the Templars were royally screwed over as he was taken in to custody. Cool? Cool. Enjoy!

* * *

The dungeon was dark and dank, the sound of the wind and slow drips of water echoed throughout the corridor. The renovations never reached to this part of the castle. Cullen supposed it didn't matter. They rarely had prisoners, and then if they did, it was never for long. He strode further into the darkness, boots splashing in the shallow puddles. A rat squeaked at his passing and disappeared into the shadows.  
  
Maybe they could fix it up a little. Cullen should talk to the Inquisitor the next time he had the chance.  
  
Their latest guest was near the very end, in one of the last cells. It had a window at least, so that was something. Cullen paused as he drew closer and a raspy chuckle greeted him.  
  
"Wanted to get one last look before my execution?" The clink of shackles accompanied the voice.  
  
"You're not going to die." The response was automatic, Cullen hardly thought about it.  
  
"For what I've done," Samson spat out, voice bitter, "I can hardly see another alternative."  
  
"The Inquisitor does not waste what he can use." Cullen replied, grip shifting to brace his arm against his sword hilt. Cassandra had pointed out to him he did so often when he was unsure where he stood in a conversation. It was a habit he'd picked up during his time as a Templar.  
  
"I'm  _sure_." Samson responded, sounding entirely unconvinced. It was odd for Cullen, looking down on the man in front of him. Samson actually looked better than when they'd first brought him in. The angry red tint to his skin had faded and his cheeks weren't as sunken; the Inquisitor disabling his red lyrium armor had been for the best. "Then what are you here for?" Samson demanded, drawing Cullen back to the present. "Waiting to see the withdrawal kick in again? I'm sure this time will be even better than the first."

Venom carried in the Templar's voice, but fear was in his eyes.

"I understand that now." Cullen replied softly. Still, he would get pangs of longing so intense it took his breath away. Cravings that drove his mind to the brink and pain that left him shivering on the floor. He shuddered at the thought of all the "retired" Templars he'd seen forced to leave the Order over the years and what became of them, what they were forced to endure.

"Ahhh, so the young lion decided to break his chains before the noose tightened too much." Samson said, something close to pride in his voice but a sneer on his face. "Was the pain worth it?"

"I don't know yet." A thought that haunted Cullen daily. He took the final step so that he was directly in front of the cell, his free hand going to clasp one of the bars. "I came to say you were right."

Dead silence greeted those words.

 _"What?"_ Samson's eyes locked with Cullen's. They were still slightly bloodshot, but were clearing without the red lyrium to poison him. Cullen gave a curt nod and turned his head away at the heated gaze he received.

"I said you were right, what you told the Inquisitor." Cullen leaned up against the bars, arm bracing him with his forehead pressed to it as the memories surfaced. "We  _were_  being used by the Chantry." His eyes stung as tears gathered. "If I'm honest with myself, I knew it from the day I met a young man named Alistair."

"The king?" Samson seemed so engrossed in Cullen's words that he forgot his resentment.

"He wasn't king then and I was a very different person. He and the Hero of Ferelden came sweeping through the CircleTower at its most dire hour and I  _saw_  him use Templar techniques with no lyrium to aid him. I used to think: if I had been in a better state of mind I would have noticed, but I  _noticed_. I just refused to see. Lyrium wasn't even needed for our skills, it was needed to  _control_  us."

"Hnnn." Samson made some type of noise, whether in agreement or indifference was hard to tell.

"I saw so many Templars lose their minds in my time at the Order and they just...the Chantry  _let_ them rot. Good men and women who had served their entire lives tossed aside because they were no longer useful. And I just  _watched_ —"

"Then  _why!?_ " Samson surged against his shackles then, slamming against the iron bars and gripping them so tight his knuckles turned white. "Why didn't you join me when I asked!? Back in Kirkwall before this whole shitstorm began?" Their eyes met again but Cullen didn't look away this time.

"You may have be trying to do the right thing and even for the right reasons, but you went about it the wrong way and with the wrong person. Corypheus is evil, a deeper and darker evil than Meredith or Orsino ever was, you know that. There was no future with him."

"But it would have been a better way to go than wasting away within your own mind." Samson bit out, voice raw. The two men were face to face, only a few inches between them.

"The Inquisition offers a future," Cullen said quietly. "One not bound in lyrium."

"A future I will never see." Samson's hands dropped from the bars as he looked down at them. "I knew I wasn't on the right side, but I figured I was on the winning one with the best hope for me and our kind. Perhaps I didn't have enough faith in...anything."

"It's not too late," Cullen urged. "I remember a good man I met when I first came to Kirkwall, a man I shared my quarters with. I'd like to believe he's still there."

"Those were better times," Samson's smile was wry. "And they are gone now. Give it up Rutherford, there's nothing left to save."

Cullen was nothing if not stubborn past the point of reason at times and he hated being told to give up. The cell key was in his hand suddenly and Cullen nearly ripped the door off its hinges as he stormed into the chamber, throwing his weight at Samson and slamming him against the cell bars. One hand found the large shackles binding Samson and pulled until they were above his head, wrapping them around the bars and using his dagger to hold them in place.

"Is that so?" Cullen whispered, fingers undoing Samson's worn prison shirt and slacks.

"What's this supposed to prove?" Samson demanded, voice tight with anxiety but not struggling either.

"To see if the man I used to know is still there." Cullen answered. Chest bared and pants around his ankles, Cullen ran his hands across Samson's exposed body, drawing a shudder from the other man. "You've lost a lot of weight." He noted sadly, eyes narrowing.

"I don't—" Samson's voice caught as Cullen rubbed a gloved finger over his nipple. He pinched and pulled until the skin was dark red and Samson was squirming under him, restrained moans pushing past his lips. Cullen trailed his hand up and gripped Samson's dark hair, pulling back so his throat was bared before surging forward and devouring the man's lips with his own.

They battled, this time with their tongues and Cullen pushed all of his feelings into the gesture. His hope and pain, dread and sorrow. Samson fought back just as fiercely, all teeth and power. It was messy and brutal and everything Cullen needed in that moment. His free hand reached down and he grasped the base of Samson's hardening cock, rolling the heated flesh in his fingers and causing Samson to buck against him, breaking their duel.

"'S not fair," he groaned as his head fell to Cullen's shoulder. His hips jerked and stuttered as Cullen roughly played with him, remembering what had set him wild back when they had been bunkmates. He shifted his grip and massaged the other's perineum, slow movements circling around before pressing hard. Samson thrashed against him, hands gripping the cold iron bars tight to keep himself upright as his shackles bit into his skin.

"You're too tense," Cullen admonished, "when was the last time you found release?"

"Stop talking," Samson grunted, thrusting against Cullen's hand. His mouth latched onto Cullen's neck and sunk his teeth into the skin, causing the Commander to wince withdraw his hand from its ministrations. "Shit, I didn't say stop." Samson's immediately let go and licked an apology to the wound, a low whine in the back of his throat. "Didn't mean anything by it."

"I'm aware." Cullen confirmed as he grabbed the glove with his teeth and tore it off his hand. "Just needed to get rid of this." His remaining hand grabbed one of Samson's legs and hoisted it around his waist, his uncovered fingers dancing across the chained Templar's lips. Catching on quick, Samson drew the digits into his mouth and lavished them. Cullen grinned and started thrusting again, closing his eyes and moaning as his own hardness found friction. "I wish I could turn you around and fuck you against these bars." He whispered harshly and Samson had to pause in his actions, a deep groan emanating from his chest. "Or throw you on the ground and ride you so I'm sore for days afterwards."

Samson let Cullen's slicked fingers slip from his mouth. " _Why don't you?_ "

"Several reasons." Cullen replied and lightly slid his fingers over Samson's entrance, wetting the skin. He teased again and this time the older man nearly collapsed.

"Oh, just fucking do what you  _want_." It was Samson's version of begging and Cullen smiled widely at hearing that tone of voice again. Exasperation and depravity in equal measures. He pushed his fingers in and stretched out the man in his arms, twisting and curling until he found the bundle of nerves that had Samson crying out. " _Fuck_ , again!"

"Is that an order?" Cullen asked, raising an eyebrow even as he complied and dragged blunt nails across the man's prostate. Samson choked back a scream and banged his head back against the bars holding him, teeth clenched and neck stretched out. Cullen nipped at the offered flesh and brought his remaining hand to stroke at the Templar's neglected erection. With all the stimulation Samson didn't last much longer, releasing with a long cry that was muffled as he buried his head in Cullen's shoulder again.

They both stayed tangled up in each other for a long moment, Cullen afraid to lose anything he might have managed to gain. He was pulled out of his fear by Samson's shivering.

"Alright?" he asked worriedly.

"Just cold." Samson responded and Cullen quickly removed the dagger from his chains, releasing his arms so he could pull his clothes back on.

"Apologies."

"No need." Samson finished buttoning his shirt and refused to meet Cullen's eyes. "It was a nice parting gift, more than I expected—I didn't expect anything tho—"

"It's not goodbye." Cullen cut him off, confidence strong his voice. Samson's eyes narrowed.

"You didn't find what you wanted," he accused, shoulders tight. Cullen leaned in and their lips met again. They battled, but this time Samson won, ravaging Cullen's mouth with bruising, possessive kisses. Cullen smiled as Samson quickly pulled back. Regardless of what position they ever ended up in, Samson always dominated in this regard.

"No, I think I did."

"So you found a small piece that survived the years," Samson spat. "I'm not the same man anymore. I'm not that man you  _want_."

"The decent man I first met?" Cullen pressed his dagger into Samson's hands and positioned it above his heart. "A piece is enough, enough to build from, but if I'm wrong prove it now."

"You're a damned fool." Samson glared and wrenched the blade away, throwing it on the floor. "Killing you would achieve nothing, so this proves just that: nothing."

"If you truly had nothing to live for, you would have gone through with it despite that." He covered Samson's hand with his own. "I can't stop fighting. Can you?"

"I...suppose not." Samson's whole body seemed to hunch forward, as if it grew too heavy for him to support.

" _We_  can save our kind. Templars don't have to be abused and tossed aside any longer. The Inquisition shapes the future, I've seen in with my own eyes. We can finally shape the future we want for the Order, a new one, a better one."

"Sounds nice—"

"You'll see it, I promise." Cullen willed Samson to believe him, just for one minute.

"I'd like that." Samson finally said, voice tinged with desperate hope. "To fight for something right again. To have a partner to stand back to back with. I know I'll probably die tomorrow, but the alternative sounds...like something to live for."

"I-I'll talk to the Inquisitor immediately!" Overeager, Cullen almost tripped on his way out, nearly forgetting to lock the cell door behind him. "I'll petition for you to be enlisted to the Templars, or me, or whatever I need to say to convince him."

"I can see you've put a lot of thought into what you'll say," Samson said dryly. "I'm utterly relieved."

"Have faith," Cullen called back as he jogged to the main corridor. Behind him he thought he heard a faint " _Only for you_."

 

* * *

 

 Cullen knocked on the Inquisitor's doorway, impatient to speak with him. Without waiting for an answer he pushed open the heavy wooden door. "Forgive me, Inquisitor but I must speak with you about the prisoner. I—"

He paused mid-sentence as he realized the Inquisitor was already with someone.

"Ah, I knew it!" Dorian snapped his fingers most elegantly, shirt already off. The Inquisitor sat on top of his desk, the Tevinter mage between his legs, looking entirely too unconcerned. "I  _knew_  you secretly desired us. Come Commander, and we three shall make this a most memorable night."

"I think I get  _some_  say in this." The Inquisitor arched an eyebrow. Although a small elf, he wielded a great sword with terrifying strength and was one of the fiercest warriors Cullen had ever encountered in his life. Bronze skin and white hair with eyes like fire he gave a kind smile to his Commander. "If it eases your mind Cullen; for the hearing tomorrow I was going to release the prisoner to your care, conscript him under you—if you will. I hope that's what you were seeking."

"I—uh, yes." The Inquisitor always surprised him. One of the few friends Cullen counted and was blessed with. "Thank you sir."

"You once told me he was a good man, I trust you can find that person again. He's a valuable resource I'm not anxious to lose."

"Nor am I." Cullen responded hastily.

"If you're not here to fulfill one of my greatest fantasies then please vacate this room." Dorian sniffed haughtily and Cullen felt his face go red. He turned to leave.

"I mean," the Inquisitor piped up, "you can join if you really want."

"This is me  _leaving!_ " Cullen yelled and his heart rate skyrocketed and he slammed the door behind him. 

"He's no fun." He heard Dorian whine and quickly sped away back to his room, face red but heart eased.

* * *

 

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on my tumblr at: http://ellewood117.tumblr.com/post/110529261355/hope-for-tomorrow


End file.
